Brainwaves

Beth and I celebrated our 44th wedding anniversary this past April and, although I know of some who mysteriously pulled the plug and let their boat sink after longer voyages than ours, I feel confident enough in what we possess to say I think we have weathered the storm. Does that mean we now simply let someone else steer the ship while we both sunbathe on an upper deck? That’s silly. The winds still blow; the weather is not always pleasant; and often, in our efforts to keep our course, the hardest part about working together is in grasping what we’re trying to say to each other. Even beyond the gender gap, humanity’s ability to communicate is hindered by the truth that terminology doesn’t always produce the same exact image. We remain individuals and “horse” might translate to palomino to you, but pinto to me. It takes discussion, patience, and humility if we want to go somewhere…..

I find that true whether the vessel represents our marriage, our local church, or our country. Where we get off-track, it seems to me, (other than a reluctance to develop those elements already mentioned) is in our understanding of “leadership”. There are those who believe a successful union between man and wife is accomplished via a woman’s submission unto whatever her spouse decides. One guy in front. Just shut up and follow his rules. Is that a home, though, or a dictatorship? We make the same mistake, I think, in church; and such critique applies to both pastor-driven and deacon-board-driven assemblies. We choose our partners and we usually elect our ecclesiastical figureheads, but when position becomes an assumed designation of superiority, life leaves the entity and you’re left with an institution. An institution in an “airless bubble”, in fact, full of stink and dead men’s bones…..

Eisenhower took a piece of string and, in trying to push it forward from either end, gave us a good illustration of what a man achieves in trying to so manipulate another’s directional path. He believed in stepping out in front, doing your best with that which the Almighty gives unto you, and if God be in it, then He’ll also bring along others to follow. I agree; but, being Navy rather than Army, tend to visualize it in a more nautical setting. To me, it’s like being aboard a boat with no means of navigation other than catching His breath in the sails. It’s not all that important how many of us establish a crew or who has their hand on the boom, as long as we are agreed: we go nowhere without Him. Fill your lungs with as much hot air as you can get in them. Huff and puff all you want. My faith is not in your declaration of heaven being just over the horizon, but in the reality of His presence, His promise manifested…..

People speak of jetlag, referring to a long flight setting them down in a different time zone and their body having to adjust to another schedule. I find a sixteen hour drive from St. Pete to northern Kentucky much the same. Losing sleep in the very beginning and then occupying your mind for an extended period with not much more than the continuous flow of traffic in front of you tends to numb the brain cells as you go. At sixty-six, at least, it’s not as easy as it once was. Suffice it to say that, Sunday morning, yet in bit of a fog but scheduled to visit the Youth Detention Center, I wasn’t so sure how my thoughts would connect and hold together in speaking to whatever group God had waiting for us. Experience, though, has taught me it is never about us, but about Him. In spite of the guard’s warning that these kids were giving them trouble the last few days, as Bob began to share with them, His Spirit stepped into our midst and from there on the room was one…..

It was, then, Sunday afternoon that proved to be the harder transition for me. Beth’s family was celebrating a nephew’s retirement and I found myself, not in just a gathering of the clan, but in a rather large mix of community he knew from areas beyond my scope of recognition. Not that number, alone, was the problem. I just don’t do well in crowds. While hopefully my ability to mingle has improved down through the years, it yet remains that “small talk” is no easy matter for me. Relaxing in Him is one thing. Relaxing in “me” is another. It strikes me, though, that, for the most part, none of us know each other to any real depth of insight, only via such encounters here and there. We do not talk to do so. I have no doubt given men at the rescue mission more testimony of my life, more witness of my outlook on life, than I‘ve ever discussed with my in-laws; and the same is true in reverse. Yet, in both scenarios, there must be a divine door opened in the sharing of one’s heart…..

Is not Christ more than a message? Is not the Gospel a resurrected Reality more so than any one man’s version of the printed page? The location of the pulpit holds little value, the same also true concerning the vessel who delivers the Word. Like Olympic sprinters carrying the torch, so we, as believers, run with fire, not just passing the flame, but hopefully kindling a candle within the soul of those we meet. Make no mistake about it, however; none of us are ever anything more than a container through which He works. He is the igniting of the wick, the water in our well, the bread we break and then partake. If there be any foolishness in our ecclesiastical attempts to win the lost, let it be known that it is we, alone, in chasing our own egos, who resemble the clown. When His presence comes forth, it speaks for itself, whether men wish to face it and fall before it, or run for the exit. Truth remains truth and men remain men; but, in Him, if only for a brief moment, we can be more…..

Compared to former years, the condo unit and the beach, here, both seem void of the usual crowd, current gas prices, no doubt, having pressured folk into prioritizing their pocketbook expenditures. My family is just fortunate enough to have a relative who donates this package to us at a price that yet seems affordable. If the economy yet continues to strangle the average American, though, next summer may find us camping at the creek instead. We learn our lessons, I suppose, as life comes to us. It’s the nature of the beast….

Early the other morning, I watched as four young boys, pre-teen, with the surf to themselves, attempted to attack the waves like their older brothers. With a small boogie-board in hand, one fellow charged across the wet sand and into the white foam, only to misjudge the water’s retreat, planting his intended means of transportation like a javelin in the wet muck of the shoreline. His own inertia now caused the “tombstone” in front of him to resist the onward mass of his body and flipped him head over heels into the briny….

I chuckled from my viewpoint on the fifth floor; but, in truth, have had my own share of such spills along the way and, in all honesty, after getting up and brushing myself off, have more than once been no wiser than to simply repeat the whole scenario. Others may not share my own degree of stupidity. We are, though, to say the least, strange creatures who think ourselves as having most things figured out, capable to meet whatever tomorrow brings, individually better off not to trust the other guy in most matters….

If we agree on little and are seldom congruent on any one issue, it’s because our opinions have been forged from different perspectives, assembled out of hard knocks and mishaps encountered during the journey. Religion. Politics. Global Warming. Child discipline. How to get from here to there. Start a conversation. Stir up the pot and stand back. When the dust settles, usually nobody has convinced anybody else of much. Each has just further solidified his mental image of the other. Our faith is in what we think we know….

Give me, then, God’s grace, the nex step, and better aim with my boogie board….

After giving his readers the Biblical account of “in the beginning” and also an old, black preacher’s more “colorful” version of the matter, Buechner then began to suggest that all the façade of what was created be dropped, leaving one with only “the being”. His words reminded me of that television commercial some automobile maker recently filmed where all the scenery around the car, as it motors from hither to yon, falls backwards like pieces of painted cardboard until all that’s left is that which the company wants you focused on: the gas-guzzler they’re hoping you’ll buy. In like manner, my favorite author of the hour has so reduced my mental perception, fine-tuning it until it’s right there with him in the After giving his readers the Biblical account of “in the beginning” and also an old, black middle of nowhere, yet precisely centered on that which holds the whole puzzle together. Unarguable. Unexplainable. But still so “in your face” that it’s utterly undeniable. This voice of God. This big bang mystery that gives existence to all that is……

I awoke pre-dawn this morning, stumbled around in the darkness, brewed a cup of coffee, and then made my way through the grandsons who were sprawled all over the living room occupying both the sofa sleeper and a large air mattress. The view from the veranda of our fifth floor condo unit was rather mystic, the absence of direct sunlight blending the ocean and sky into one huge wall of gray before me. I could hear the waves breaking across the beach, see the white line of disintegration as each new arrival spilled itself upon the sand; but above that thin, elongated point of recognition it was as if heaven had lowered a great, grey, gossimer curtain. The moon was positioned elsewhere and beyond my little segment of the universe, but somewhere, out beyond forever, a single, solitary star confirmed unto me that distance wasn’t that big a deal. A man’s soul knows no limitations other than what he, himself, assigns it, especially when it connects with that One who created it all. What’s hard I only eliminating the clutter……

My middle daughter came out to visit with me yesterday in that space where daylight had fully manifested itself, but had not yet consumed the shadows over the seashore. When I asked her to tell me what she saw, in gazing at the scene before her, she hesitated, relaxed, and then simply replied, “Peace.” Understandable, knowing some of what life introduced to her this past year. Nonetheless, I suggested that her answer was just indicative of what most do: take the imagery and become one with it. In such a location as we possessed, it’s certainly easy enough to fall into a sense of momentary tranquility and forget all else; but my own mind always tends to go to the horizon, that point where all that is known and all that is unknown meet making an irrefutable seam that actually stretches itself to where I, myself, sit. While I’m left with an inability to put rhyme or reason to it, yet within me deep touches deep and there is no fear, no panic, no anxiety concerning the whole reality of it resting in the palm of His hand……

Up early and strolling through the garden with some friends, I found my thoughts being continually returned to that plastic dome which not only the religious institution, but also we, as individuals, erect over our existence. Ron, of “Weary Pilgrim”, wrote of reaching out to a friend suffering with depression and I spoke to him of how, inside the bubble, is but the stink of our own humanity. We are, after all, what we breathe as well as what we eat and, unless we get fresh air from somewhere, pollution takes its toll. Still, men being men, you can lead them to an oxygen tank, but you can’t force them to inhale…..

I find that true whether trying to break through the defensive barrier that people tend to build around their own opinions or through the protective shield that the Church utilizes in the cloning of its constituents; but find myself in agreement with my friend at “Under the Overpass” who asks us to remember that we are not God. “The world does not need more saviors”, he says, in quoting his bishop; “We already have one of those; and He is enough.” In other word, it’s too easy to get our ego in the middle of our good intentions and it works much better if we just allow Him to overflow our vessel as He sees fit…..

In my visit to “Naked Pastor”, then, after reading David’s comparison of our trying to give life to Christianity’s ecclesiastical structure to an attempt to restore an old car that has condemned to the scrap heap, it amused me to find him declaring how the life we’re promised in Christ is “a resurrected one”, but amazed me that he should afterward think such life “probably beyond the domain of sensual experience”. His words but convince me of our failure, as the Body of Christ, to share the reality of the gift, too busy putting definition to the Book rather than simply being the incarnation of who He is…..

I’ll close, therefore, with Wayne’s latest entry at “Stratoz” which prompted me to give comment concerning how our perspective changes as we go. A young boy, upon seeing the robin sitting on a fence, will take aim with his slingshot. Down the road somewhere, however, older and hopefully wiser, the action is reversed and the old man’s heart is hit by the bird and yields unto the One who created them both. As we journey “through the veil”, always the Shepherd is not far from any of us. It is we who make it difficult. It is we who put up walls and resist the Wind. May we learn as we go…..

“To church leaders and Christians who have enough missional courage to do whatever it takes to escape the Christian subculture and be citizens of the kingdom rather than citizens of the bubble”…..Dan Kimball, intro to “They Like Jesus, But Not the Church”

In using my Barnes & Noble on-line connection to investigate “Unchristian”, I stumbled across the above publication and was caught by the last four words of the above. The book originally sought for exploration is said to address “the negative perceptions young people have of Christianity”. Kimball’s middle chapters are labeled what “Emerging Generations” think about the Church and categorize the latter accordingly as: (1) organized religion with a political agenda; (2) judgmental and negative; (3) male dominated/oppressive of females; (4) homophobic; (5) arrogant in its claim of all other religions being wrong; and (6) full of fundamentalists who take the whole Bible literally. While admitting that I’ve not yet read either literary endeavor in its entirety, I honestly wonder what’s so wrong, Scripturally, in being found guilty as charged?…..

I find nothing wrong with a political agenda being a part of one’s faith as long as it doesn’t require everyone else to agree with you. It’s certainly no secret that every other group does the same thing. Wasn’t Christ, Himself, often found judgmental and negative? Being in His image doesn’t demand we sit in a corner and say nothing, only that our words be laced with grace and void of condemnation. If the ecclesiastical institution is run by men, I submit that world culture has long been so organized. Gender equality is just one more area the Church needs to address. “Phobic” is a little strong concerning the ecumenical position on this one, considering what the Book has to say about the condition, but that statement takes us right into the last two items on the list and, for me, what we’re looking at once again is a man’s attitude with the sharing of his faith……

If we within the Body are bringing forth bad social interaction, I find two reasons for such exchange. First, a wise man once put it this way: “You can please some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time; but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.” In truth, many have their own definition of how we are to represent Jesus and it is a good bet that Jesus, Himself, would fall short of their demands. Secondly, the Church has failed, in my opinion, in its confirmation of one of its most important tents. We preach a Trinity fulfilled by the fact of Christ “in” me, but then either reduce the Holy Ghost to a non-reality residing in our good works, or arrogantly think ourselves to BE such authority raising the dead and running off demons. Somewhere along the way it became more about our ego and less about being a vessel for His reality……

Citizens “of the bubble”…Did that stir anyone else’s thoughts?

Sunday being Sunday, I listened to two sermons yesterday. The first sprung out of a single verse in Proverbs and brought forth the idea of a father leaving a legacy for his children, but did not necessarily refer to financial inheritance. Ethics. Faith in God. Integrity. There’s more to life than a healthy bank account. Tim Russert’s recent death no doubt had stirred memories within this pastor’s heart of his own dad’s passing about a year ago, but words shared with us remained focused, to the point, and, in ending, struck my heart. The other message, delivered in another assembly, also closed with the idea of an elder generation pronouncing a blessing upon its youth. By the time the preacher got to such conclusion, however, I was scratching my head over the trail he had just blazed to get to such location…..

After thirty-six years in Pentecost, it seems to me I’ve heard it all. There were those, in the beginning, who didn’t consider a man “anointed” until his sentences became unpunctuated and held together by great guttural gasps, but that equation disappeared, at least in my neck of the woods, along the way. Holiness legality still lingers in the bushes, taking pot shots at whomsoever every now and then. In truth, though, such strictness never bothered me, other than the “look-down-your-nose” attitude that some developed with it. Just as long as I find, somewhere amidst all the clutter and misrepresentation that we, in being human, bring to it, the genuine, manifested presence of His reality, put the Gospel in whatever terms you wish: Life, along with a personal thirst to know Him, will sort it out as I go…..

Rene Descartes’ theological explanation for our existence, “I think; therefore I am”, never did impress me. The movie “matrix”, as far as I’m concerned, stated the facts much better. Not that machines have us all actually contained in singular, biological units, feeding us a programmed image of the world as it appears to be, but there would seem to be a sense of truth to our viewing life, each through our own perspective. I’m willing, in fact, to permit that variant to all believers. If Christ “in me” indeed be an actuality, a promised encounter known to us via the Holy Ghost and yet, at the same time, is deity that will never take our reins other than by our permission, then surely our Biblical understanding goes beyond a stumble through His Word governed by His tug on our heart…..

If you’re going to serve me a slice of your “vision”, you can expect me to chew on it for awhile before I swallow it…..